The Fairest of Them All
by She-Elf4
Summary: Imagin a child white as snow, red as blood, with hair as black as the ebony windowframe.' We've all heard that before, but what if Snow White had been born a boy? HOW can the greasy Potions professor be the fairest one?
1. Default Chapter

Somewhere, in a dark manor, a man with dark hair stood before a mirror. "Mirror, am I beautiful? The fairest in this wretched world?" The mirror replied, "No, our son in fairer than you, and I love him best." "We'll see," the man said.

"Now, Harry, we are off to St. Mungoe's to visit my cousin. You are welcome to come, or you can stay here and get settled in," Mrs. Weasley said to Harry after lunch the day he arrived to stay with them over the rest of the summer.

"I think I'll come with you," Harry answered.

"All right. Help yourself," Mrs. Weasley said, handing Harry the pot of flew powder. Harry grabbed a handful and threw it over the fire, which turned green. With a shout of "St. Mungoe's," he was off. Next came Ron, then the twins, then Bill, then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

When everyone was there, Mr. Weasley led everyone to the second floor. There, they went down the hall. It was still lit by candles in floating bubbles. A little way down the hall, Mr. Weasley opened a door and led them all inside. There were two women in the room; one was about Mrs. Weasley's age, the other one was very old looking.

"Hello, Ellen, how are you doing?" Mrs. Weasley asked as everyone approached the younger woman.

"Oh, I'm fine. Slowly getting better, they tell me. As for me, I'd rather go home," Ellen responded. Mr. Weasley smiled.

"Now, don't you go giving the healers a hard time. They're trying to help you, you know," he said. Harry stood aquardly at the back of the group and found himself wishing he had stayed at the burrow.

"Oh, by the way, this is Harry Potter. He's Ron's friend," George said. Harry was ushered forward.

"Uh, hi," he said uncertainly.

"So, you're the one everyone's always making a big hubblebaloo about," Ellen said in way of greeting as she shook Harry's hand. Her grip was firm. "Nice to meet you." Then, she started talking to the Weasleys again, and Harry was left once again to standing around.

"Did I hear tell that Harry Potter was here?" an old voice from across the ward said. Harry walked back to the corner and saw an old woman.

"Yes, I'm Harry Potter. Who are you?" he asked when he got there.

"I'm Nancy. I must say, you aren't how I pictured you," she answered.

"How did you picture me?" Harry asked.

"Well, fairer, I guess. Actually, I've always wondered how you felt about having the job of killing You Know Who. After all, you're just one kid," Nancy said.

"I hate it. Everyone's always gawking at my forehead. And I REALLY hate the press," Harry answered. "So, what are you here for?"

Nancy sighed and said, "I'm in for a chronic illness. They say I probably won't go home this time." She gave a faint laugh and Harry looked down.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"Oh, I think I'm ready. I've seen that in this world which is fairest," Nancy answered.

"What was it?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.

"It was a child, about five years old. The most beautiful child you could ever imagine. You know the story of Snow white?" Nancy said.

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Well, that's what he looked like. Forgive me for sounding poetic, but he had hair of midnight's darkness and skin that glowed like apple blossoms. Like snow." A faraway look came into Nancy's eyes. "But it was so much more than that that made him fair. His laughter was like silver bells, and he could light up a cheerless room when he was happy. You could see the innocence shine out of his eyes. I know a lot of little children fit this description, but he was so pure, sweet, and loving. Even when he was sad, light always filled his face. It probably sounds silly, but when he cried, everything seemed to cry with him. He had everything good in this world."

"Who was this child? He sounds like an amazing kid," Harry said.

"He was. Here, I have a picture of him." Nancy pulled out an old, slightly faded picture. Harry took it and looked at it. It was moving, like all wizard pictures. There was a little boy in it, chasing butterflies. When He caught one, he would look at it a minute, than let it go. Harry could see that yes, this child was special in his beauty, inside and out.

"His name was Severus Snape," Nancy said, and Harry stared at her in shock. How could that beautiful child be the greasy Potions professor? "Here, let me tell you of him..."

0Modern

Arial

here were two women in the room; one was about Mrs. Weasley's age, the other one was very old looking.


	2. Her Story

"You see, his mother and I used to have lunch together every Sunday. When he was about five, she started taking him along. The first time I saw him, I commented on how beautyfull he was. I mean, Mr. Snape was all right looking, but he had this mean temper. I don't know what she saw in him. And she was this complete airhead, well-intentioned but gave way under pressure. She was no supermodel. She had this frizzy, not-quite-red hair. Her olive complexion kind of made up for that, though. It was his father who had pale, pasty skin."

"Anyway, she started bringing him to lunch. Like I said, a more beautyfull and happy child you couldn't find anywhere. That's why I noticed that he suddenly became melancoly. And I said before that the whole world seemed to be sad with him, and it was true. It's not like it rained or anything; as I remember, it was quite sunny, but it was cold, like a winter sun, you know? No birds seemed to be singing, no crickets, it just seemed so quiet, along with him. He just sat at the table we were at, staring down at his lap. I asked his mother about it, and she said it was nothing."

"But it wasn't, was it?" Harry asked.

"No," Nancy answered. "It was far from nothing. But she refused to talk about it anymore, so I dropped it. I didn't think about it much after that, until one night when I was baby sitting him. His mother and father had gone out for the night, so I agreed to watch him. He had made a bit of a mess on his clothes. He was really upset about it, so I helped him change into something else, intending to wash his shirt before his parents got back home. But I noticed a strange bruis on his arm. I continued looking, and I found another one on his back. This immediately got me suspicious."

"When they got home, I asked them about it, but at first they refused to talk about it. I kept asking about it, so eventually, Mr. Snape yelled that it was none of my business and threw me out of their house. Of course, by then I couldn't just let it go. The next time she and I got together, I demanded to know where those bruises came from. She finally told me that her husband had taken to beating him when he misbehaved. Even though I suspected it, I was shocked. I mean, how could you beat any child, especially your own? Especially one as special as he was. I just couldn't understand."

"What did you do about it?" Harry asked.

"Well, first, I asked what she planned to do to get him to stop. She just said that he'd eventually come around. After that, I contacted the Ministry of Magic. They checked out the situation. Both the parents even went to court. But, they won the case. I tried to do a follow up, but they got a very strict restraining order. They said that if I even called, I'd be arrested for stalking. After that, there was nothing I could do," she answered. Just then, the Weasleys called to them.

"Well, I'd better get going. It was nice meeting you, and I wish you good luck," Harry said, holding the picture out to Nancy.

"You keep it," She answered. "I'll always remember him. I'm glad I met you. Don't let people get you down, hear? Now you'd better run," she said, looking at the Weasleys waiting for him. Harry smiled at her and left with the Weasleys.


End file.
